Music, Wine and Dine
by Sasswolf-Hale
Summary: Sterek?AU. Stiles graduated Salutatorian, moved to New York, and is now a technical assistant for a theater on Broadway. Cast and crew at the theater almost always go to HaleFire, a homey little bar not far from Stiles' loft. But when the bar gets some new employess, Stiles is smitten by the nephew of the owner and makes it a goal to get in the other man's sheets at least once.


**A fic for my friend Q. I hope he enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Teehee.**

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"Stiles! Let's go, man!"

The overly hyper voice of his childhood friend had Stiles actually cringing. "Scott, seriously. I have to finish cancelling these light cues. I told you how much Finstock hates when we don't clear the boards after a rehearsal or show." He rolled his eyes as he worked his magic on the large boards, successfully clearing the light cues and shutting down the microphones. He still wore his headset as he focused on his work, ignoring the bouncing of his friend. However, if there was one thing Scott McCall could do, it was be silently obnoxious when he saw fit. And Stiles was usually his main target for this ability. After a few moments of ignoring Scott, Stiles could no longer take it and yanked the set from his head to look at the male. The headset made a mechanical kind of flop against the small area for crew to rest their arms and heads between cues. "Scott, what _**is**_ it? I do not want Finstock on my ass again, _**god**_." He looked at the other teen, who was practically bouncing off the walls.

"Do you know the one lead? The girl who was playing Mimi?" Scott demanded, a huge grin on his face. Stiles' entire face went into a very irritated but droll stare as he stared at his best friend.

"You mean Allison? The one Lydia freaking Martin met through the exchange program?" Stiles inquired, going back to his board, fingers practically abusing the sound and light boards as he finished erasing cues from his first show. He could just barely make out the nodding of the other teen. "Yeah, what about her?"

"Do you know anything about her?"

Stiles actually froze and turned the swiveling chair to stare at Scott. "Dude, I worked with her on _one show_. And I'm not a cast member, I'm the tech guy. So no, I don't actually know anything about her, other than her name, what mic she had, and that Lydia is her best friend ever." He rolled his eyes dramatically, turning back to finish his clearing of the boards.

"She invited me to join everyone tonight." Scott said, beaming. He tilted his head as Stiles seemed annoyed. "What?"

"Out of the entire cast and crew, there are four minors. Four. Allison, Lydia, some kid named Isaac and me." Stiles said. "Everyone goes to a bar in Times Square after a show's last performance." He said. "I'm not interested in being called a baby by coworkers all night, okay?"

"Lydia's going," Scott replied, his tone a mix between coaxing and pleading.

"Lydia is also the last person in the world who would look at me and think 'oh, hey, great guy to be with'." Stiles half-snapped. "Besides, she's still with Aiden." He grumbled. The girl in question had graduated one slot above him, as Valedictorian of their class. Stiles had been Salutatorian himself, beaten by the Beacon Hills Queen Bee by about point zero seven in GPA. Stiles had gone to New York, and had recently finished graduating from a local technical college. He'd been added as a crew member for the recent rendition of RENT, and had been working as a sound and light tech. Much to his dismay, Lydia had been assigned as Make Up and Wardrobe. His own depressing thoughts were broken as Scott reached out to ruffle his hair.

"Hey man, it's your first show. You did great with everything. And everyone is invited, director is buying for everyone."

"And you wanna see Allison." Stiles added in a blatant 'I know what this is' tone.

"Okay, yes, I really want to see Allison." Scott admitted. "Please, Stiles? You know these guys way better than I do."

"Wishing you hadn't taken over for Deaton?" Stiles asked.

Scott shook his head. "Not at all. I love my career." He said. "I just miss my best friend."

Choosing to look at his best friend made Stiles crack. The look on Scott's face was too damn adorable to ignore. If Scott was even remotely bisexual like Stiles, the other teen would have stood and kissed him for being so cute. Instead though, Stiles gave a chuckle. "Alright, I'll go to the bar." He agreed. Hitting a few more buttons and shutting the system down, he stood from his chair and grabbed his hoodie, a tad worn from being the only jacket he had in New York winter weather. Payday was in two days, and Stiles had already calculated his expenses so he knew how much he would have left. Scott gave a grin and rushed to hug his friend, and Stiles reluctantly hugged back. "Hey, Scott? Personal space, buddy." Actions like hugs were fine and all, but when they went on a little longer than normal, it made Stiles feel awkward. When the other teen took a step back, Stiles nodded and motioned to the door. "Come on." He moved to the doorway and shut the door, making sure to lock it. "All I have to do is deliver this to Finstock's office and we're home free. Or…bar free, I guess." He led the way through the inner halls of the theater, stopping at a wooden door with a star that had the words 'ROBERT FINSTOCK, THEATER OWNER' engraved in the silver. Knocking on the door, the two heard the rather obnoxious voice answer from inside. Turning the knob, Stiles opened it and held up the keys. "Hey, Finny. Just dropping off the keys to the tech booth." He assured. The man sitting at the desk looked up and gave a chuckle. "One of my youngest crew members ever and you're by far the most responsible, Bilinski."

"Thank you, sir."

The building owner reached out and as the keys were laid in his hand, he nodded. "You help restore part of my faith in the human race."

"Oh, really?" Stiles asked, cocking his head.

"No, not really. But you do keep me from going to jail for murder, so that's way better than faith in humanity. I'll see you next week."

Stiles gave a mix between a laugh and a whine at the serious face the man wore. "Yeah, sure thing." He went to the door and shoved at Scott, leading the other teen out as he shut the door and started down the hallway. He took a few deep breaths as he walked before looking at Scott. "What?"

"He called you Bilinski."

"He can't remember my name, so I just go with it." Stiles said. "It's no big deal."

"He's very…."

"Cuckoo? Disturbing? Muy loco?" Stile tossed a few words at his friend as they neared the exit door.

"I was gonna say eccentric, but yeah, I guess those work too." Scott replied. He walked with Stiles to the staff lot and paused. "Dude, your Jeep."

Stiles gave a laugh. "Yeah, it took forever to save up, but I traded it in for a newer model finally." He said. "You still have your car?"

"It's not the same, but yeah, I have one."

"Great. I'll drive you over and we can grab it before we head to HaleFire."

Scott paused. "HaleFire?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. It's spelled funny, but it's not like a rave or anything. It's a homey place just down the road from my loft."

"You have a loft?" Scott asked, amazed.

"College tuition paid for the rent while I was in classes. Now it's my job here that covers it." He waved at the theater as the other teen got in and he drove around to the visitor parking lot. "Just follow me and I'll get you to the bar, okay?" he asked. Scott nodded as he got out and went to his own car, starting it up and pulling out, following the Jeep down to Times Square, where on the edge of the corporate buildings was a relatively large bar with a fair sized lot. Scott pulled in after the male and parked alongside the Jeep, getting out. He looked at Stiles and then the bar. "You come here?"

"It's better than nightly raves. And you get good conversationalists." Stiles said. "The owner is from back home."

"A place like this is owned by someone from Beacon Hills?"

"Yeah, Peter Hale. Everyone else in the family has gone to travel or study abroad, but Peter stayed in the states and bought this little joint. Don't worry, he doesn't bite." Stile retorted, leading the way to the door. Paying the cover, the two teenagers wandered in only to be greeted by a blonde girl with a dark hazel pair of eyes.

"Evening boys. What can I get ya?" she paused as she saw Stiles. "Stilinski. We haven't seen you in a while. Thought you'd forgotten about us."

Stiles scoffed. "No, work just got crazy busy. The last show was tonight, so that's why you've got that back room filled." He said, recognizing cast members from the show from the door. "But how about a couple of dr. peppers, Erica?"

The blonde nodded. "Sure thing, hot stuff." She teased, walking back towards the bar. Stiles laughed and shook his head.

"She's a great girl. Came here to help her mom get through cancer. Fell in love with the city and decided to stay." He explained as he nudged Scott. "Come on, party is this way." He led Scott to the back room, where everyone was gathered. Stiles instantly found a corner table and sat down. Scott went looking for Allison. Stiles stayed out for a while, but after about half an hour, he slipped from the back room into the main bar area. The actual bar was being manned by two men and a woman. Stiles recognized the bar owner Peter and the woman, but from the back of the third tender, Stiles didn't think he knew the other. Sneaking up into a bar stool, he gave a grin at the chestnut haired woman. "Well, well, Terra." He greeted.

The woman turned, giving a huge grin. "Stiles!" she said in surprise. "Erica said you were back."

"I never left. You know how the theater life is." The teen said, smiling as he was handed a fresh soda. "There's a few new faces. What's up?"

Terra gave a shrug. "A few of the family came back from places." She explained. "The ebony haired girl tending to your group of friends is Peter's niece Claudia. The brunette working the pool room is Cora, another niece."

"Your nieces, too." Stiles corrected.

Terra laughed. "You know what I mean, Stiles." She scolded, reaching out to swat at him. Stiles laughed and pulled away as she was called a few stools away. Stiles swirled his straw in the cup of soda before looking up and freezing. The third male at the bar had turned and Stiles finally got a good look at him. In a dark grey, plain t-shirt, the guy was easily six feet tall, just four inches taller than he was. The shirt wasn't skin tight, but it showed off enough of the muscular build that the teen was damn near drooling.

"You know it's not polite to stare, hot stuff."

Stiles jumped so hard, his glass knocked over, spilling carbonated syrup all over the blue-corseted blonde. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Erica." He said, flailing to get napkins and soak up what was spilled on the counter.

The blonde laughed. "You're fine, Stilinski." She said. "At least I know it was an accident, unlike ninety-eight percent of the drinks that end up on me in a night." She was drying the liquid from her shirt as she looked at him. "What had you all drooly?" she asked.

Stiles couldn't resist moving to take another look at the man at the bar. "Who is he?"

Erica smiled. "Derek. He's Peter's nephew. Good looking, right?"

"Good looking?" Stiles asked, gawking at Erica. "Erica, he could steam a sauna he's so gorgeous."

Erica giggled at the other teen. "Good luck getting him home." She said. "He turns everyone down. I guess he's old fashioned like that." She waved as Derek looked over, and as he walked over, Stiles looked at Erica, a kind of panic in his face for a moment.

"You okay, Erica?" the man asked. Stiles swore he melted into a puddle at the timbre in the man's voice. Fuck, he was so screwed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said. "I just scared a regular while he was zoned and got soaked." Erica laughed. "I'm gonna go to the back and change. Watch my area and keep him company?" Gaining a nod, she turned and vanished towards the back, where Stiles knew the employee lounge, office and kitchen was. Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap. How was he not supposed to gawk at the most beautiful man alive and hold a conversation?

He was so dead.


End file.
